All Things Pass
by Lion in the Land
Summary: What could possibly make Carlisle and Esme abandon the close-knit family they've so carefully built? And what do a cave, journal pages, and several hospital beds have to do with it? A Twilight mystery. Post ‘Breaking Dawn’
1. Prologue

"All Things Pass" is a joint venture between Metropolis Kid and Lion in the Land.

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**Disclaimer:** We don't own any material contained within this story. All copyrighted content remains the property of the person, people, or organization that holds the copyright. This story is solely for fun.

**A/N:** What happens when a fanfiction writer with a strong distaste for the sparklification of vampires meets a confessed Twilight junkie with a morbid curiosity about the darker side of the undead? Well, there is much discussion, a spewing of opinions, an exchange of ideas…and then this happens:

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**Prologue:**

**The End is Merely the Beginning**

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_The pride of your heart has deceived you, you that dwell in the clefts of the rock, whose habitation is high; that said in his heart, Who shall bring me down to the ground?_

Obadiah 1:3

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The six vampires who pretended to be the adopted children of Carlisle and Esme Cullen came to the gaping maw of a dark and foreboding cave. "Stop," Edward called out. "This is it."

Jasper took one look at the cave and felt a rare chill run down his spine. After decades as a soldier immersed in combat, both human and inhuman, the scar-covered Cullen had learned that there was a certain air around places tinged with death, and he felt that now. Turning back to his brother, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Edward bristled slightly at the implication that he could be mistaken, but simply responded, "I am positive. This is the place that Carlisle was thinking of the last time I saw him."

Alice gave a slight gasp and pulled on Jasper's sleeve. "Hun, I've seen them come to this place sometimes in my visions."

"Then why didn't you tell us about it sooner?" Emmett asked somewhat accusingly.

"I didn't know it meant anything," Alice said, defending herself. "I just thought they found a special place where they could...you know…be as loud as they wanted."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Your wife's got a dirty mind, Whitlock. Congratulations," he teased, but the joke fell flat in the tension of the group. All traces of levity were removed from his voice when he continued. "Well, now we know that whatever happened to Carlisle and Esme must be somewhere in there, right?"

"We're very close to werewolf territory," Bella said in an anxious tone, though the warning wasn't necessary. They all knew where they were, and they were more than a little concerned about it. That was why the family of night-stalkers had yet to enter the dark cave.

Relations between the wolves and the Cullens had eased up after they'd joined forces in the stand-off with the Volturi years earlier, but ancient grudges ran deep, and more than a few members on both sides openly clung to their mutual distrust. All it would take was one misunderstanding to snap them right back to where they'd been – mortal enemies. And with Jacob Black off attending college with Renesmee, there was currently no one to smooth ruffled feathers should relations turn south between the two groups.

But it wasn't just the wolves they were worried about. This cave contained secrets, secrets they weren't sure they wanted to know.

Well, what are we waiting for?" Rosalie finally asked in a mixture of false bravado and genuine courage. "We're not going to get any answers standing out here like a bunch of frightened kids."

So saying, she quickly stormed into the cave before fear had a chance to once again play upon her mind and cause her to reconsider. With their headstrong sister already braving the intimidating, dark passageway of earth and stone, the other Cullens quickly followed.

The cave was almost impossibly large, and the tunnels within twisted and turned, like a winding serpent, occasionally forking off like the branches of a tree. Even though the Cullens moved swiftly through the darkness, they still wandered around for hours before finding anything that could begin to explain their parents' strange disappearance.

Eventually, they came to a large cavern − one that was very different from any area of the cave that they'd previously explored. The area was populated by three rows of cots, many of which had various small, personal possessions strewn about them − everything from books and pads of paper to articles of clothing and even the occasional bottle of medication. The walls of this cavern were lined with torches, though none were lit at present.

"My God…it's true," Edward murmured.

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Well, we hope that little nugget whet your appetite for what's to come...

Thanks for reading,

-LiLa and Metropolis Kid


	2. Carlisle

'All Things Pass' is a joint venture between Metropolis Kid and Lion in the Land

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Chapter 1

Carlisle

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_Earlier that day:_

"Oh, grow a pair, Edward," Rosalie spat. She was in Carlisle's office with her hands clamped onto opposite corners of the wall safe she'd just ripped from the wall, chunks of plaster strewn about her. "You're free to sit around and fret about what could've happened to them, but I'm going to do something about it."

"It is an invasion of his privacy to read his journal!" Edward shouted at her. He stepped forward and pressed his open palm firmly to the door of the safe, daring Rosalie to defy him.

"Says the mind-reader..." Rosalie responded with a sneer as she stared him down.

Alice shook her head. "Look, normally I'd agree with you, Edward, but in these circumstances, I say privacy shmivacy. Carlisle and Esme disappeared three days ago, and neither your gift nor mine has given us any answers as to why. We've got to do _something._"

Bella stepped to Edward and took his free hand in hers. He turned to her and she looked up at him with her soft, golden eyes the same way she used to turn her big brown cow eyes on him when she was human. She crinkled her eyebrows in a way that told him he was being too stubborn.

"Fine," he conceded and pulled his other hand back. "But the second we find the information we're looking for, it goes back into the safe."

"Fat lot of good that's going to do," Emmett commented as he watched his wife bend the heavy metal door in half like it was nothing more than a soft tortilla shell. Rosalie fished around and pulled out a stack of journals, some of them very old and worn.

"Look for something in the summer of 2009," Jasper suggested. "That's when he started having the trouble with his eyes, and he never quite returned to his full essence of peacefulness afterwards. I'm betting that has something to with it."

After sifting through a few journals that appeared to be from this century, Rosalie said, "Bingo," and began to read:

June 7th, 2009

My eyes are already starting to turn black again, and I'm beginning to get worried. Lately it's been taking more and more animal blood to quench my thirst. But still… I had a beaver less than an hour ago − that should've held me for a couple of hours at least. What's happening to me?

I can hear Bella yelling for everyone to come because Renesmee's doing a double back handspring. A yell is not necessary with seven vampires around, but my newest daughter is excited, and I find myself smiling. I have five 'children,' but they were all nearly adults when I met them. It's nice to have a young one in the house.

I've got some white, feeder mice in a box in my room. I'll pop one quickly – should sate me for a few minutes at least – and then go watch my granddaughter perform her latest trick. Whatever's going on with me will pass. It has to; life's too perfect for something serious to go wrong now.

August 20th, 2009

It's growing worse. For the last couple of days my eyes have been constantly black – even _while_ I'm feeding. Something's very wrong, and the rest of the family has taken notice. The kids are treating me… differently. I can see concern in all of their faces, and Esme…Esme's grown strangely distant lately. I don't like this, don't like feeling this way, don't like everyone walking on eggshells around me. It isn't right! I'm the father! The others look to me for strength. I should be helping them – not being made to feel like a burden.

There's something wrong with Renesmee – some kind of abnormality in her bone growth. The family's attention should be focused there. Not on me.

One of the younger doctors came to work last week with red eyes. I was worried at first, as red eyes mark those of our kind that feed on humans. But as I cautiously approached him, I could see the ridges of contact lenses, and upon inquiry, he confirmed that they were, in-fact, red-colored lenses. He said he wanted to look like a vampire, that vampires are "popular with the ladies" at the club he frequents. The boy has no idea what he's wishing for. He got me thinking, though – I wonder if they make gold-colored lenses. It's only a matter of time before my colleagues here begin to question the permanent blackness of my eyes.

Colored contacts could do more than just avert my co-workers' suspicions. Perhaps if my children could see me at least looking normal, they would relax and take their attention off of me and put it all on Renesmee and her problem, where it belongs.

August 25th, 2009

The contacts came in today, and I must say they look very convincing. I tried a set on while standing in front of the mirror, and even _I_ half believed that the golden sheen had returned to my eyes.

Alice was so impressed that she's ordered herself a pair of blue contacts, and the others seem keen on following suit; the idea of an alteration to our eternally unchanging appearances seems to have given a much needed positive spark to the atmosphere around the house. I am glad. Poor Jasper can only do so much.

I'm encouraging them to use the colored contacts for the additional reason that it will help us all to blend in a little better with the humans. It's rather a miracle that no one has yet questioned the oddness of our eye color, especially since we've never claimed to all be biologically related. Ah well, the dim-wittedness of our Washington neighbors will make it possible for us to stay located here several years longer than usual.

At any rate, my new contacts take care of my little problem…now I've just got to watch my thoughts around Edward, to keep _my_ issues out of his mind. It's his daughter who's having trouble. He's the last one who needs to worry about me right now. So, I'll watch my thoughts.

September 11th, 2009

We've finally gotten Renesmee straightened out. We ended up having to seek outside help to do it, though. Inquiries around the hospital and with former colleagues led us to a doctor out in New Jersey. He figured out what was happening and managed to adapt an experimental treatment originally intended for use with those afflicted by Achondroplasia.

There's no denying that the man is a genius, however, he's also an arrogant, rude and very obnoxious person. And when it became necessary to reveal enough of Renesmee's medical history for him to figure out what we really are, he never stopped with the condescending insults and… less then flattering Dracula comparisons. Still, he's keeping our secret, and despite the barrage of 'walking dead' jokes, the rest of his team doesn't seem to have any idea about us – apparently they must've thought he was simply referring to our pale skin and hallowed features. And he did manage to fix up my granddaughter, so I can't complain too much about his behavior. Besides, I'm fairly certain that he was only compensating for that limp and cane of his.

Unfortunately, I think I may also know what's wrong with me. Esme suggested it − that maybe, over prolonged periods, animal blood isn't enough for our kind. She said that, perhaps, there is something in human blood that we not just crave, but need. At first I told her that it wasn't possible. In over three hundred years I've never taken more from a human than the little bit necessary to turn those at death's door. Why would this just be starting now? She turned and walked away without another word. She seemed… offended by my refusal to consider her suggestion.

Could she know something I don't? She's certainly more observant than the kids give her credit for. After all, she was the first to notice when my strength started to wane, the only one whose attention hasn't wavered because of a pair of colored contacts. Maybe she's right. Maybe after three centuries of nothing but animal blood, my body just… just needs something more? It's not as if there's ever been a medical study on the matter. The only other vampires I know that have lived consistently on a diet of animal blood are the members of the Denali coven, but even Tanya and Kate have only been committed to the lifestyle since the early nineteenth century, over a hundred years less than I have.

But how… how? What am I supposed to do? No. It can't be. I-I can't… My family's resolve is strengthened by _my_ commitment; I know that even the Denali coven looks to me for inspiration when things become…difficult. I am the cornerstone of the peaceful lifestyle of a dozen vampires, and who knows how many I could inspire in the future. I won't turn my back on everything I've built!

February 1st, 2010

It's been weeks since I last had the strength to write. I'm away from home now. I'm not quite sure where I am… but it's some kind of cave. The last thing I remember before reviving here is passing out in the forest while Esme and I were out on yet another useless hunt.

Esme's the only one I've seen since I've regained consciousness. At first I was worried, but she smiled that smile of hers and ran her hand tenderly down the side of my cheek. She's been spoon feeding me blood as if it were soup. Deer blood, I think. But she's heated it up and that must be what's changing the flavor, almost as if it has some kind of seasoning. It doesn't taste like what I'm use to, but it seems to be helping. I'm getting a little stronger each day.

My darling wife has also been so good as to bring me my journal, knowing that sometimes my writing is the only thing to keep me sane. But I am too tired to continue at the moment. I am grateful at least to be conscious and able to move a little. That's something.

February 3rd, 2010

I can sit up now, and I find myself eagerly awaiting each time Esme comes to me. She brings me another bowl of that delicious 'soup' and we talk. She tells me how the family's getting along. Apparently the kids all think I'm in New Jersey, trying to payback that obnoxious doctor for all he did for Renesmee and for keeping our secret by assisting him in another supernatural diagnosis – a werewolf this time. While I'm grateful that the kids have been spared the knowledge of what's really going on with me…and the concern and fear that knowledge would doubtless provoke, I can't help but feel guilty that I'm responsible for Esme lying to our children.

However, if I continue to regain my strength, her lying may not go on for much longer. I can almost get up now. Once I can walk, I will return home.

February 5th, 2010

NO! No, it can't be. But it is…and I think that, somewhere deep down, I've known it this whole time – I just wasn't willing to accept it.

Earlier today, I was able to pull myself out of bed and stand on my own two feet. Then, slowly, I managed to limp around the cave. I was so happy, but then… then I found the room where Esme's been making that 'soup.' It was a dark room, illuminated only by the flickering light of the fire burning beneath the large, black kettle. Yet that faint illumination was enough to reveal to me what my weakened 'night sense' missed at first.

In the room laid two bodies. One was that of a large elk, but the other…the other was that of a man – a _human_! That was what gave the soup its strange flavor. My wife's been mixing animal blood with that of a human! Probably because she knew the elk blood would confuse the flavor enough so that I couldn't figure it out. Apparently she hadn't thought I'd be up and about yet.

How could she do this? How could she betray everything we've worked so hard to build? How could she…how could she turn me into… into one of _them_?!

February 6th, 2010

"I did it for you… to save _you_." That was the answer she gave when I confronted her. Apparently the man she'd killed had been in prison. She'd gone in and snuck him out. He was a serial killer, already on death row. "How many people have you saved, not just in our family, but as a doctor, too? How many lives, _human_ lives do you save each year? Is not your existence worth more than that of some psychopath who their own justice system was going to execute, anyway?" That was the question she asked. And I'm still not certain of the answer.

I remember what it felt like to be so weak, so helpless, unable to even open my eyes. I don't want to be like that again, never again. And I can't deny that it was the human blood that revived me. But…but no matter how many lives I may save, that doesn't give me the right to take the life of another – no, not even someone on death row.

Still… how can I fault Esme − my dear, sweet Esme – for rescuing me from that… that nothingness, that oblivion between life and death? No, I can't hold that against her. It was a selfless act, after all, and − though I know it was wrong – I can understand why she did it…and even sympathize with her. No, I won't hold it against her. And perhaps…perhaps she had a point about my existence… my work being too valuable to just throw away.

But I will not survive by taking the lives of others. No, that is something I cannot do. But, there are… other ways to obtain human blood. I _am_ a doctor, after all; I'm surrounded by packets of donated blood every day. I can just sneak a couple here and there, maybe fudge some medical records, as I did when we kept the emergency supply around during Bella's pregnancy. Then I can take enough to keep myself going and minimize any harm done to anyone. It feels strange to think of doing this for my own benefit, but as Esme says − isn't my work of greater benefit to humanity than a few 'misplaced' packets of medical blood?

I had been thinking that I would have to destroy this journal with the terrible secrets it holds. But I see now that I was being irrational. Things are not as bad as I had feared in my distress yesterday. This is my story – it may not always be as flawless as I would like it to be, but it is all a part of me, and I cannot destroy this record of my existence that I have so faithfully transcribed from the beginning.

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**Author's notes:**

This story takes place in 2015, and although vampires still for the most part keep their existence a secret from humans, the Volturi's influence significantly decreased after losing so much credibility during the three-freakin-chapter discussion at the end of Breaking Dawn, so there's no imminent threat of death-for-telling.

The usually-right-but-rarely-appreciated Rosalie in this story is influenced by the in-depth character studies of fanfiction author, geophf. You can see the fruits of his labors in his excellent stories, _My Sister Rosalie_ and its companion piece _Rose by a Lemon Tree_, both of which can be found in my favorites. Also, geophf seconded the opinion that the Denali coven adapted the 'vegetarian' lifestyle in the early 19th century. Thanks bb! :)

I would also like to take this opportunity to say thanks to Metropolis Kid for never complaining once during the _months_ that I held this story hostage, and for putting up with my continuous mind-changing and whatnot.

And to you, dear reader, thanks for stopping by, and special thanks to all who've reviewed!


	3. Esme

_All Things Pass is a joint venture between Metropolis Kid and Lion in the Land_

Chapter 2

Esme

Carlisle's journal ended, and Rosalie and Alice rifled through the others, but all of them were from earlier periods. Had Carlisle really done this? Had he secretly been feeding on human blood − from stolen hospital blood packets − for the last few years?

"But Edward, surely you would have known," Bella said.

Edward shook his head and stared forlornly down at the floor. "I didn't know any of this," he admitted, gesturing toward the damning journal. I guess I was so preoccupied with Renesmee's troubles at the time that I didn't notice he was hiding something from me. After that…well, it's possible the practice became so commonplace that it was easy for him to push it out of his thoughts."

"Commonplace?" Rosalie seethed. "Commonplace for Carlisle to drink _human_ blood?"

"Calm down, babe," Emmett soothed, but he didn't get any back-up from the family empath.

"And all the while he talks up the vegetarian lifestyle to us," Jasper growled through gritted teeth, "knowing that in the long run we're all going to end up just like him."

A charged silence followed Jasper's last words, and then Rosalie barely broke the silence, murmurinig, "No…" Her eyes grew wide at the horrid prospect of lowering herself to the level of the common vampire. "There's got to be something else here, something that refutes all of this, another explanation." She began tearing through the drawers of Carlisle's desk.

Whether true or not, the contents of Carlisle's journal did not bring them any closer to finding him and Esme, so the others began searching as well. All except Bella. Like the others, she was mortified by the thought of having to regularly feed on human blood. She'd drunk it before, when the half vampire fetus she carried had required it, but that had been for the baby's sake and she didn't relish the thought of doing it again. Perhaps she hadn't fully thought this vampire thing through.

She gently reached out to touch her husband's shoulder and whispered, "Edward, I know where Esme keeps her diary. She told me, I think maybe…maybe she knew something like this might happen one day and she wanted one of us to know."

Edward wouldn't admit it to himself or anyone else, but he was completely thrown by being as uninformed as everyone else. How could he not have known what was going on with the man he'd looked upon as a father for the last century? He was suddenly all in favor of Alice's 'privacy shmivacy' philosophy.

"Lead the way," he told his wife.

Down the hall in Carlisle and Esme's room, Bella sifted through Esme's lingerie and pulled up a small paisley-covered journal. She flipped to pages from the summer of 2009.

* August 18th, 2009 − Something's wrong with my husband. Carlisle's eyes have been black for days. When I first saw them like that, I worried that he'd been so concerned about Renesmee that he hadn't been eating, but now I know it's something more serious. Not that not eating isn't serious of course; my husband works hard and needs to keep his strength up, after all. But no, I fear that this is something far worse.

Back when I thought he just wasn't eating, I tried to talk to him about it, but he sloughed it off and said I shouldn't worry about it. Renesmee's problems were more important. I told him to 'sit on it'!' I mean, I am concerned for Renesmee, of course, the whole family is, but although she's my granddaughter and I love her deeply, Carlisle's my husband. I have just as much right to worry about _him_.

Still, he wouldn't talk to me about it, and that struck me as odd. So, when after a few days his eyes were still black, I started following him around. Something was obviously wrong − why wasn't he eating? – and if he wasn't going to tell me, then that meant I had to figure it out for myself. And what better way to do that than by following him around and gathering clues? Of course, the 'clue gathering' proved a lot easier than I expected.

Last night Carlisle killed a bobcat. After quickly snapping the creature's neck so that it wouldn't feel the pain from what was to come, he cut it open with his teeth and began to feed on its blood. That was when I knew things were a lot worse than I'd suspected. He was standing there feeding and STILL his eyes remained black. The problem isn't that he's not eating, it's that what he is eating does not satisfy his hunger!

* August 21st, 2009 − I've spent the last three days locked away, pouring over all the information I can find on feeding habits and nutrition: everything from Carlisle's medical journals to my old cookbooks to studies on vampire folklore that I checked out of the local library. I even bought my own laptop so that I could search online without the rest of the family knowing what I was up to. Two human afflictions may be related: Scurvy and Porphyria.

Scurvy results from humans (and a few other mammals) lacking a specific enzyme that allows their bodies to create Vitamin C. Therefore, they must ingest this nutrient by consuming an outside source that possesses high deposits of it. Humans may survive and even thrive for short periods without doing this, but eventually they'll deplete the Vitamin C stored in their bodies and the affliction will begin to take hold.

Porphyria is a most unusual disease. From what I've been able to discover, scientists still aren't exactly sure what causes it, but they believe that it might be linked to certain hereditary defects that may be triggered through stress, alcohol and/or drug abuse. But then, what causes it doesn't really matter to me. The symptoms are what I'm interested in.

Porphyria, like Scurvy, results from a human body being unable to produce something very important, something needed to survive, in this case key erythrocytes and iron enzymes having to do with healthy red blood cells. Of course, only a very small percentage of humans are unable to produce this healthy hemoglobin. However, there is something most interesting about these individuals.

As with Scurvy and Vitamin C, humans afflicted by Porphyria may receive, from an outside source, what their bodies have become incapable of producing naturally. In fact, for a brief while it was even thought that they might be able to ingest the blood of others to gain healthy hemoglobin. However, this has since been proven false. Synthetic forms of heme may be injected into those afflicted with Porphyria in order to ease their suffering, but the blood chemicals these people need can't survive the human digestive process.

Of course, our kind are no longer human. And, as any new vampire who's tried to eat a cheeseburger knows, our digestion system works very differently. So, for us, perhaps, simple ingestion of these chemicals is enough? If this is the case, then maybe… just maybe the animal hemoglobin my husband has been drinking for all these years is not a perfect substitute for human hemoglobin? Perhaps it was enough to keep him going for these past centuries − longer than any other vampire − but maybe now it's not enough…he needs something more.

How to get Carlisle to accept this? Noble, self-sacrificing, idealistic, _stubborn_ Carlisle.

* September 10th, 2009 − I tried to explain, but Carlisle refuses to listen. We've just gotten Renesmee on a treatment that seems to be working, and I felt like it was the perfect time to talk to my husband about getting him healthy as well. But he refused to even listen to me! Is it because I don't walk with a limp, fling insults at him and have a face covered in whiskers?! Or maybe he just doesn't think a house-wife could have figured out something that he, a doctor, wasn't able to?!

No… no, I'm being unfair. I'm sure that Carlisle's refusal to listen to me has nothing to do with the fact that I'm his wife… and a stay-at-home-mother. No, not my Carlisle; he's not like that. He respects me… which is a whole Hell of a lot more than I can say for my first husband. _HE_ would've dismissed my idea out of hand, simply because it came from _me_. But I'm sure that's not what happened with Carlisle. My husband loves me and respects me, and I know that _his_ dismissal was only due to the fact that he understood the implications of what I was suggesting and couldn't bear to think about them.

Still, what does this mean for our future? If Carlisle needs human blood and he continues to refuse to drink it, what will happen to him? Sooner or later his impressive strength will begin to fade, and I wonder just how bad things can get for a vampire who refuses to drink blood. I have the perfect husband, the perfect family, the perfect existence…is my only choice to sit idly by and watch it all slip away?

* October 13, 2009 − Carlisle won't say it, but I know that he's given my theory more thought. It's only a matter of time until he comes around to seeing things my way. His strength is microscopically waning (although he hides it well from the others) and at some point he'll have to stop living in denial and take action.

I keep thinking about the time that Edward left Carlisle, back when it was just the three of us. Edward has told me stories of how he survived in the interim, how he preyed on those sick, evil people, how he culled them from the human herd. And, though I know my husband still doesn't approve of what Edward did, I've honestly never blamed him. And now… now is it time for Carlisle to follow his example? Does he have any other choice?

* November 28, 2009 − I was out by myself exploring today, and found an interesting cave. I'd never gone in before because the entrance is so close to the Quileutte territory. But now…now that prospect is appealing. The cave is very large and most of the tunnels do indeed extend into the wolves' territory. But it's enclosed in thick rock and the entrance is on our side, so how would they ever know? To have a place to go, a place where Carlilse could come to…take care of his needs outside the prying eyes of our children, outside of Alice's visions, would be a very good thing. All parents deserve a modicum of privacy, do they not?

* January 15th, 2010 − Today I got my chance to test my theory! It finally happened, as I knew it would: Carlisle collapsed. Thankfully we were all alone, out hunting a deer that would do Carlisle no good. We'd chased the thing into a clearing, and I was closing in for the kill when Carlisle suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He began moaning in obvious distress and I rushed to my husband's side, reaching him just as his legs gave out.

It was difficult to see him in such a pitiable state − immobile excepting his weakly fluttering eyelids; it was as if they wanted to open, but he lacked even that amount of strength. I have Carlisle safely hidden in the cave, blocked from Alice's visions. There's no need for the children to be privy to any of this.

Now I steel myself for what I know I must do. For what I've been waiting for the opportunity to do. Carlisle won't like it, but he's not really in a position to object, is he? There are plenty of people in the world − sick, perverted, evil men – who have far less right to continue in their lives than my husband, who will only seek to help others, just as he has always done. Surely his life is worth more than that of someone who can only cause pain and misery. I've purposely not made a specific plan − I'll play it by ear, that way I won't trigger Alice's visions. And when I return to the children, it will be no problem to disguise my thoughts from Edward after all these years of practice.

Yes, it's time to test my theory, and surely when Carlisle sees that it's working, he won't be able to deny that I've done the right thing. Carlisle and I have built so much together, and once we're working together again we'll find away out of this and nothing will stop us.

* * *

Here Esme's notes ended, confirming everything in Carlisle's journal. Bella and Edward merely stared down at the pages and didn't speak. They didn't want to think about what her next entry might've said, how it would have described the murder of the man their mother had made the 'soup' from. They also didn't comment that both of their parents' journals ended at approximately the same point. Meaning that anything afterwards must've been too horrible to even write down.

"Dude! I've got it!" Emmett shouted from down the hall in Carlisle's office. Bella and Edward ran down to see him holding up a journal that he'd apparently just pulled from underneath one of the ripped up floor boards. "Check it out," he boasted and started reading:

December 8th, 2014

I can't believe it went through! I never thought I'd see the day…not in this country. But they actually managed to pass it – that socialized health care bill. Now we doctors are going to have to deal with stricter oversight…will new federal regulations cost patients their lives?

And what will this mean for my blood supply? A few people at the hospital have already noticed that we seem to be giving more 'transfusions' than our neighbors. With hospitals now filing expense and inventory reports with a whole new level of bureaucracy, will someone make the connection and figure out what I've been doing these last few years?

December 24th, 2014

Well it finally happened – I was wondering how long it would take. While the rest of my colleagues have thoughts filled with Christmas dinner surrounded by family, I'm left mourning the senseless loss of an eight-year-old girl's life. She was mentally challenged, and her mind would've never developed beyond that of a normal five-year-old. And that was justification enough for the government to block her health care when I found an abnormal growth on her back.

The growth turned out to be cancerous, and though I told that governmental bureaucrat that with surgery and a couple rounds of chemo the girl would have a thirty percent chance of making a full recovery, he just didn't care. She'd never be a productive member of society, and apparently the 'cut off point' for 'people like her' was fifty percent. Anything less just wasn't 'cost effective.' Yeah, tell that to her parents. "Your kid had a one in three chance for a full recovery, but given her preexisting condition, treatment just wasn't cost effective." I'm sure _they'd_ understand.

And just because things weren't already bad enough, the government sent our hospital administrator a message 'encouraging' him to monitor all future blood transfusion requests more carefully. They're catching on, and I fear that my regular blood supply just vanished.

January 1st, 2015

Well, it's the start of a new year, and I'm excited… and a little nervous about the new adventure this year is going to bring for my wife and me. After talking things over, Esme and I have come to a decision. We're going to kill two birds with one stone.

I can't let some bureaucrat force me to stand idly by while people die, people I can save. Nor can I continue my work without an alternate source of human blood. But Esme and I have worked out an… arrangement whereby we can solve both problems.

The two of us are going to become shepherds…of a sort. We've got the money to buy some slightly outdated medical equipment, and thanks to Alice showing my wife how to shop on-line, we shouldn't have any problem finding sellers. We'll get what we need and set up a bare bones clinic in that cave Esme took me to. What we can't buy – certain prescription meds and such – I can…procure from the hospital I work at. All supplies suffer some shrinkage, and as long as I don't take too much of any one item, I shouldn't send out any red flags, like I did with the blood packets.

The cavern where Esme nursed me back to health extends into werewolf territory – that's the section where Esme kept me for my recovery, and that's exactly where we'll set up the clinic, so we won't have to worry about Alice getting any visions of what's going on there. As benevolent as our mission is, we don't need to involve our children in anything illegal. And as for Edward…well, Esme and I have already managed to keep my theft of blood packets from him, so we should be able to handle this, too.

No one besides the two of us will know about the clinic. And the patients will all be people who are 'dead' on the government's books – 'nonpersons' if you will. So certainly, no one is going to question where their packets of 'nonblood' are going to when I take regular 'donations.' I suppose you could say that my patients will be literally paying in blood for my services. Is this so unfair? After all, without us, the clinic wouldn't exist at all, and all those people would be dead. We will be saving them. So, if we need to harvest a little 'wool' from our 'sheep' to keep everything going, we can hardly be blamed for doing so. Who is going to complain about a situation in which everyone is better off?

I'll admit that it's neither an ideal nor perfect arrangement, but in this world of grayish compromise, what is?


	4. Joan

_All Things Pass is a joint venture between Metropolis Kid and Lion in the Land_

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Chapter 3

**Joan**

"So this is the clinic they set up," Alice commented in wonder as she surveyed the cavernous room littered with hospital beds. This didn't feel real at all.

"But…where are all the patients?" Emmett asked. As he said it, a chill crawled up the stone flesh of all six vampires. Where _were_ all the patients?

"There's got to be a clue here somewhere," Jasper said and began rifling through the various personal possessions in the room. Everyone else joined in, paging through notebooks, opening drawers, flipping through decks of cards. They were getting pretty good at this.

"I've got something!" Bella shouted. From underneath one of the mattresses she pulled a spiral-bound notebook. "There's a small pile of pills and it looks like someone was keeping a diary in here."

Despite their vampiric sight, with no lightsource whatsoever in the remote cavern, the six investigators were only able to sense the outline of objects and couldn't see enough detail to be able to read in the dark. Jasper scanned the deposits of various possessions for something that he could use to light one of the torches. The faint smell of tobacco lingered in the air, though no human's nose would've been sensitive enough to detect it, and it didn't take long for him to find a small, silver-colored lighter. Retrieving the lighter and touching off the nearest torch, he rejoined his brothers and sisters.

Jasper continued to hold the torch for illumination, and Bella began to slowly read.

.

_May 19__th__, 2015_

Dear Diary,

Sorry it's been so long. I was hit by a car a month ago − can still hardly believe that dumbass Mercedes driver didn't swerve. Really, I may be homeless, but I'm still a person, damn it! Stupid, stuck-up classist! Anyway, the bastard hit me and put me in a 'light' coma for a month. Actually, maybe I should thank the brain dead moron. If not for him, I'd have never gotten here, never met Dr. and Mrs. Ruthven, Antonio and the rest. It's nice to have a family again − actually starting to have trouble remembering my own. Ah, but I guess I'm getting ahead of myself.

It all started when I woke up. My vision slowly came into focus, and then I found myself staring up at a most unusual sight. Far above my head rested a ceiling of stone. Confused, I quickly − well, as quickly as I could given the fact I hadn't moved in over four weeks – looked around. I was surprised to find myself lying in a row of cots − almost all of which were occupied by someone else who seemed to be in as bad… or worse shape than me.

As I continued to take in my surroundings, I slowly became aware of two things. One was that I was in some kind of make-shift hospital, and the other was that this hospital was in a freaken cave!

Of course this concerned me − concerned me? I was practically terrified. Homeless girl gets knocked on her head and wakes up in a cave serving as a hospital? It sounds like something out of a Stephen King novel! However, my fears were dispelled when I got a look at the man bending over one of the other patient's beds and inserting an I.V. into her arm.

There was such an air of kindness around the man, and I could tell just by looking at how gently and carefully he was inserting the I.V. Once he was done, he stood up and lovingly patted the girl on her head. Then he turned to me, and when I saw those kind eyes I knew… I just _knew_ that if this man was working here, then whatever was going on had to be good. He just had a way of making me feel better about everything with only a look.

He came over and introduced himself as Dr. Carlisle Ruthven. He told me that I was safe here, that my every need would be taken care of. I guess I was still in some kind of shock or something, because I didn't say anything − just nodded like an idiot. After giving me a quick examination and asking me some questions in a very kind, calm and soothing voice, Dr. Ruthven had to go check on some of the other patients. But I was not left alone for very long.

Shortly after Dr. Ruthven left, I met his wife, Esme. She came in with a hot bowl of porridge in her hands and sat down on the side of my bed. 'Here now, this will help you. Got to eat if you're ever going to get better,' she said in a voice that I'd never expected to hear anywhere other than in old, black and white sitcoms. I could barely move my arms, so she spoon fed the porridge to me, smiling happily, maternally, the whole time.

As she fed me, she explained that she and her husband had set this place up as a secret clinic to treat those whom the new socialized healthcare system didn't deem 'worth the expense.' Apparently my life was one of those 'not worth saving.' And here I thought the whole point of the program was to help the underprivileged. Yeah, right. Because sooooo many of the government's other programs have helped us homeless, 'mentally disturbed' people. Should've known the healthcare one would be like all the others. :(

Esme didn't seem as pressed for time as her husband, and I felt oddly comfortable with her; we ended up chatting for quite a while. She told me that her husband just couldn't stand to see lives thrown away simply because treating the people wasn't 'cost effective.' So he'd started hiding patients and treating them on the side. And eventually − as his extremely private practice grew − the cave transformed into a nearly full-fledged, underground clinic. She said that the whole thing was very hush, hush, since Dr. Ruthven had to, shall we say, commandeer some medications and materials from the hospital he worked at to keep his clinic running. I told her that their secret was safe with me, and she smiled and laughed lightly.

The next day I met Antonio. He's homeless, like me ̶ and also just about the only other patient under sixty years old. And were it not for Dr. Ruthven, he would've died from appendicitis. But the good doctor saved him and brought him here. I like Antonio. He's nice, kinda handsome, in a rough, roguish sort of way, and he makes me laugh. :)

In fact, I like everyone here… even if Daniel doesn't seem to trust the doctor and his wife yet. I know I've only been here a short while, but these people are already starting to feel like a family. And after ten years on the streets, it's nice to be part of a family again, regardless of the warnings Daniel keeps whispering in my ear.

.

_May 21__st__, 2015_

Dear Diary,

The doctor heard me talking to Daniel earlier today. I was so embarrassed, especially given the nature of our conversation; seems that Daniel still doesn't trust these people.

Anyway, Dr. Ruthven heard me talking to Daniel and asked about it. I was a little hesitant at first, but he and his wife have just been so nice to me. So, I told him the truth. I told him that I was raised in an orphanage and had never known my parents. It was a horrible place, and I could tell that the woman who ran it was only in it for the money. So I ran away as soon as I was old enough to figure a way to escape − kind of a stupid move… but then, I was only thirteen at the time.

After that, I wandered around for a short while, but really didn't know how to survive like that, without any place to call home. In fact, I probably would've died if not for Daniel. He was only a couple of years older than me, but he'd been living on the streets since he was eight. His older brother had taken care of him at first, but then the poor guy got caught during a robbery and sent away. Daniel said that the cops must've figured out about his brother's… other 'odd jobs'.

Daniel said that he never saw his brother again, but by then he, at least, knew enough to be able to stay alive on his own. And I guess he wanted to pass on that information, because he took me in. He taught me what I needed to know and was a kind of big brother to me for the next few years. Then, one night, one of his jobs went south and he was shot and killed.

Even though I wasn't there, I knew the moment it happened. Somehow, I just knew. I bolted upright out of a sound sleep and just started weeping. Eventually, I cried myself back to sleep, and then, when I woke up the next morning, I started crying again.

And I kept on crying until I heard Daniel's gruff voice say, "Oh, stop your bellyaching, girl. You're giving me a headache."

Quickly my head snapped up, and I looked all around, but Daniel was nowhere to be seen. After a few seconds of confusion, I called out his name, and he 'spoke' again, only this time I recognized that his voice was actually coming from inside my head. And I've carried him with me since that day.

Of course, Dr. Ruthven didn't believe it, not that I was really surprised. No one ever does. But at least, in this doctor's case, he did try to 'help me,' told me that I was imagining Daniel's voice, because he represented a father figure to me, and I wasn't ready to be alone again. The doctor said it was a coping mechanism that my mind developed to give me the strength to keep going on my own.

He also said that the reason 'Daniel' was so distrustful of everyone was because my subconscious knew that if I actually found a new place to belong, I wouldn't need him anymore.

Yeah, I don't buy it. I mean IF he was just a delusion I concocted because I couldn't be alone, and if my subconscious realized that I didn't need him anymore, wouldn't he just sort of…fade away?

Still, it was nice of Dr. Ruthven to try to help me out. He even said that he'd try to sneak me out some medicine. Of course, I told him not to worry about it. After all, there were more important things that he needed to…'procure' from his hospital. There was no sense taking an extra risk and chancing losing access to antibiotics and pain killers just so he could give me some psycho meds…that I wouldn't take anyway.

.

_May 25__th__, 2015_

Dear Diary,

I'm finally starting to get my strength back. Antonio gave me a sketch of a rose earlier, said he wished he had a real one. And then his cheeks reddened slightly. It was so cute. Anyway, I was actually able to get out of bed and walk around with him a little.

We really had nowhere to go, just some of the larger tunnels in the cave that Esme and Dr. Ruthven had marked out on a map for us mobile patients. But after being in a bed so long, it was nice to wander for a little while, especially since Antonio was there with me. I know he's got a crush on me, and I think I may be developing one on him, too. He's so sweet and funny, and I really do enjoy myself around him.

And we have a lot in common, too. We started talking about medications and stuff, and I told him that I had a policy against taking anything that wasn't absolutely necessary, not even aspirin. I've seen too much of the damage it can do and it's a slippery slope. I always thought that I was the only weirdo, but he said he's the same way! Then, when the doctor and his wife were long gone, I whispered to him that I wasn't taking the vitamins they gave us everyday. Mrs. Ruthven seems to be giving us a well balanced diet around here, so I don't need some pill. And guess what − Antonio's not taking them either! We're both just shoving them under our mattresses so the Ruthven's don't think we're ungrateful. Like two kids hiding their brussel sprouts under their mashed potatoes.

LoL. Suddenly this alley cat's found herself a home, a family and now, possibly even a boyfriend. Man, if I ever see that crazy Mercedes driver again, I may just have to kiss him…on the cheek of course. ;)

.

_June 2__nd__, 2015_

Dear Diary,

Something weird happened today. Dr. and Mrs. Ruthven had a blood drive, and they asked everyone who was healthy enough to donate. There was nothing weird about that. I mean, a doctor asking people to donate blood, it's pretty common. And with everything they've done for me, I didn't mind at all giving something back to them…or rather to the cause, since I assumed the blood was to be used for their secret clinic. And I wasn't the only one. In fact, everyone who was healthy enough to stand lined up and waited for Esme to stick that needle into their arm. It's good to see that some people can think of others.

Living on the streets, you quickly learn how selfish most people are. But then, maybe they're all selfish because everyone around them is selfish? Maybe all they need is to receive a little kindness, like what Dr. and Mrs. Ruthven have shown to me and the rest of us. Then maybe more people would be willing to pitch in and help out, to pass that same kindness and generosity along to others?

Oh, but listen to me − the little, street urchin − waxing all philosophical. :P

Anyway, none of us minded donating. But while I was waiting in line to give blood, I overheard a couple of the other patients talking. They were commenting that this month's blood drive was a week earlier than usual. Usual? So they'd been here for more than a month? Well, yeah, I mean I guess some injuries and illnesses take longer than others to heal. It just seems sort of odd to think they've been here that long.

Another thing that seems strange is that the Ruthvens take regular, monthly donations to begin with. What could they possibly need with that much blood? I mean, this isn't a very large clinic, not compared to what you'd find in a hospital. And the ratio of patients who donated to those who might need the blood was at least three to one, maybe more. They couldn't possibly be using that much blood every month…could they?

I once read somewhere that it took three or four weeks for a healthy human to completely recover from donating blood. If that's right, then the good doctor and his wife appear to be extracting every drop they safely can from us. The idea of that gives me the shivers for some reason, and for a little while there, I was starting to really freak myself out − I looked around at the other patients and started imagining them as a bunch of zombies. It's kind of weird when I think about it; other than Antonio, the other patients just seem sort of out of it, tired, groggy...like zo− okay, time to stop letting my imagination run away with me. I'm sure it's just because I'm in the geriatric ward here. I'll be slowing down too, one of these days.

Daniel's imagination never seems to stop, though. He tried to suggest that maybe this whole thing is nothing but a milking operation, that we're being kept alive simply so they can harvest blood from us and either sell it… or use it to help the wealthy and privileged. I'll admit, his theory doesn't seem totally out of the realm of possibility − I could see some shady doctor's pulling a stunt like that, but not Dr. Ruthven. No, not him.

There's just such an air of kindness around him and his wife. And the way they speak… And the way they look at their patients… No, it's simply not possible. I'm sure that there's another explanation. If THOSE two are taking monthly blood donations, then there's a good motive behind it.

Even still…I can't help but wonder what that motive might be???

.

.

**Authors' Note**

A belated Merry Christmas to you all. We hope today finds you snug in your homes, relishing the memories of a fun holiday with friends and family. ;)

Thanks as always for reading and special thanks to those who've taken the time to share your thoughts along the way.

-Lion in the Land and Metropolis Kid


	5. Graveyard

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_All Things Pass _is a joint venture between Metropolis Kid and Lion in the Land

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Chapter 4

Graveyard

"I can't believe this," Alice whispered. "They really kept people here to…to harvest their blood?"

"They saved them, too," Bella defended. "It wasn't like they were just using them – there was a mutual benefit."

"A mutual benefit that the patients never agreed to," Jasper stated heavily.

"We don't know any of this for sure," Edward reasoned. "The evidence certainly seems to point to a blood-harvesting operation, but until we know more, we can't say for sure. And regardless – we still don't have any information on where Carlisle and Esme have disappeared to…or why."

"They had to have been storing the blood somewhere," Rosalie said. "Shouldn't be too difficult for us to sniff out and maybe we'll find more clues there."

Bella gulped. She'd shown a remarkable ability to abstain from the temptation of human blood ever since her change, but the others hadn't been so lucky. To be suddenly face to face with stockpiles of it could tempt them into a feeding frenzy and erase the years of discipline and dedication to their lifestyle − a lifestyle Carlisle outwardly advocated, even up to his last days with them. But now that their leader had apparently fallen, what was to stop them?

Jasper lit five more torches with his and the Cullen kids each took one and coupled off to search. Before long, Rosalie, Emmett, Edward and Bella ended up in the same place − a cool dead-end tunnel lined with shelves that held the packets of blood. But this blood was cold, lifeless, and the plastic that stored it gave it a clinical smell. This was hardly the same as the enticing scent of fresh corpuscles pumping through a live human, and it was easy for them to resist.

They began their search of the storeroom for something, _anything_, that would explain what had happened to their parents. There was a disturbing number of blood packets on the shelves – far more than necessary to run the small clinic, as the patient, Joan, had surmised. Other than this, there was little of interest, but just as they were about to give up and spread out to search other areas, Jasper and Alice appeared at the open end of the tunnel.

Jasper's eyes were pitch black, seeming to suck up all the light from his torch. He held his mouth tightly clamped and they could see by the set of his jaw that he was struggling against something. Little Alice's eyes were also black, and she said in a stilted voice, "You better come see this."

They followed Alice and Jasper down a dark corridor that got so narrow they had to turn to the side with their backs flat to the wall to fit through, keeping enough space between them that they didn't set the others' hair or clothes on fire with the torch. They could have carved out a wider tunnel with their bare hands to make a more comfortable walk for themselves, but they didn't want to interfere with the cave's natural state.

The tunnel eventually widened and as it did, they were each hit with the smell of human blood. It wasn't exactly fresh, but not more than a couple of days old. And this blood was not surrounded by the synthetic smell of the medical bags, so its unmasked scent was enough to get the venom pooling in all six mouths. Jasper stayed behind in the tunnel, covering his nose while Alice walked ahead and gestured toward a large recess in the tunnel's wall.

A dark red streak was splattered across the wall. Alice tilted her torch low to the floor and they saw a matching red stain where a large amount of blood must've spilled. As they peered closer, they could see indents at the center of the stain in the shape of small feet. Alice slowly moved her torch away from the perimeter of the stain, so they could see two small blobs from where the blood-soaked feet had stepped away.

Careful not to inhale, Alice gestured with the torch and croaked, "They go down that way."

Everyone else lowered their torch close to the ground and they followed the red footsteps through a maze of tunnels. The red eventually faded until the footprints disappeared entirely, but there were still small drops of blood that eventually led them to a large cave room. The blood drips continued into the center of the room, and then simply stopped. Not a speck of blood extended beyond this point.

The six Cullens spread out and waved their torches around, searching for more blood; instead they found a graveyard. Several skeletons lay on the floor and slumped against the cave's walls. These were not recent corpses; they were bone dry skeletons that had been here for a very long time.

"What the…" Emmett murmured.

"Some sort of burial ground," Edward surmised.

"Quileutte?" Bella asked.

"Very likely," her husband answered.

The cavern fell dead silent as the six Cullens gingerly waved their torches from side to side and slowly walked around, examining the skeletons and searching for more clues.

"Hey," Alice whispered, spotting some papers rolled up and protruding from a small crevice. She pulled them loose and handed her torch to Jasper so she could unfold them. On one side of the papers were sketches of various types of flowers, but on the back was handwriting, and although it was very messy, it appeared to be similar to the writing in the diary.

.

_6/23/15_

Vampires! That's what they are – those two who I thought to be such saints. Vampires! How… how could it be? They were so… so nice, so kind – so loving. They made me feel like I was part of a family again, like I belonged somewhere once more.

But… but it's true. I SAW IT! No wonder they didn't put that tunnel on the map! But I was looking for Antonio, and I heard his voice, his shouts I now realize, coming from that way, so I veered off from what the Ruthvens told us were the safe passages. I stepped into another cave room and that's where I saw it in the dark shadows – the 'doctor' hunched over Antonio's body – draining him – while the monster's wife just stood there watching! There's no denying it. They are blood sucking vampires! And we…they've only been keeping us for food, like cattle on a ranch!

I gasped – just couldn't help it – when I saw the sight, and the woman, the fifties sitcom 'mother,' she was behind me in an instant. That was when I knew that she, too, was a vampire; no human could've possibly moved THAT fast! She grabbed me and started to drag me back, out of the room – to…to God only knows where, to do God only knows what.

Her cold hand was over my mouth, muffling my screams as she pulled me away from Antonio. And I gripped onto the sketches Antonio had given me…that's why I was looking for him. I was going to tease him and ask him to sign them, so they'd be more valuable when he was a famous artist and had forgotten all about me. And I wished that the sketches I was gripping were him, and that I was pulling him along with me…away from the monster that was killing him.

"Shhh, it'll be okay…it will. Just calm down…_please_. You'll be fine if you just relax," she whispered into my ear in that perpetually comforting, motherly tone of hers. But for once it didn't work. I'd seen what they were, and there was nothing she could say that would've been able to purge that image from my mind – kind, caring Carlisle bent over Antonio…sucking him dry!

"You should have listened to me," I heard Daniel's gruff voice echo in my head. "I tried to warn you…but you wouldn't listen. Now look what you've gotten us into."

I knew he was right. He did warn me, and it wasn't like there weren't other warnings as well – the blood drives, keeping us all hidden away here, no contact with the outside world. But…but was it so wrong to want to belong…somewhere? Still, I should've listened, and I didn't. And now, I realized, I was going to pay the price for it. She'd kill me, kill me and drain me. I was sure of it.

"Perhaps not," Daniel responded. "That boyfriend of yours isn't dead…yet. Between the three of us, we might be able to surprise the she-demon holding you and escape…if you open yourself up to him – as you did with me."

Of course, I had no idea what he was talking about, not at the time, at least. I didn't know; how could I know? I'd always been told that I was simply delusional. But I didn't want to die.

"Just open yourself up. Let his life force flow into you. Allow yourself to care for him, to hold on to him at the moment of his passing… as you did with me," Daniel continued.

And so, not really understanding what he was talking about, I did my best to follow my invisible friend's instructions. I thought only about Antonio, about his smile and the huge artistic talent that the world would never know. I wanted him with me. All I did was want him…and it worked. It actually worked!

I felt something, a raw, primal power, flowing into me, and with that temporary boost, I drove my elbow into that she-vamp's gut as hard as I could. And she let go of me! I think it might've been more out of surprise than pain, but I know I hurt her – at least a little, because I saw her holding her stomach.

For a split second I just stood there, looking down at her, too shocked to think of what to do next. But then I heard Daniel again. "Run!" he shouted to me, and I did just that.

I ran deeper into the twisting caverns. At first everything was a blur. But then I moved past the areas where torches were setup to provide illumination, and the world became shrouded in utter darkness. Still, I ran. I ran as fast as I could – faster even.

I'm not that fast. I've never been THAT fast. But it wasn't just me. That power was still lingering in me, adding lightning to my steps. However, eventually, that power began to fade, and then it was pretty much gone. I hardly felt any stronger or faster than before.

Still, one thing was different, very different. I now had TWO other voices in my head, Daniel's and now Antonio's.

Antonio seemed just as confused as I was. He didn't understand what was happening, and I couldn't blame him. The last thing he knew some monster was sucking him dry, and then his: mind (?); spirit (?); soul (?) was sharing another person's body? That sort of thing didn't exactly happen every day. But Daniel seemed to understand what was happening. I just hoped that eventually, once we were safely away, he'd explain it to the rest of us.

I continued on through the dark, twisting passageways. I couldn't see a thing and had no idea where I was going. Yet, something strange started tugging at my gut. It was almost as though I was being…called down particular paths. And the further I went, the stronger the pull got. And it didn't seem to have anything to do with Antonio and Daniel. Daniel became very silent.

I didn't have the slightest idea what it was, of course, but a strange tugging at my gut was far from the weirdest thing that happened to me today, so, I followed it. It wasn't like I really had anything else to go on, anyway. I thought – hoped – that it, whatever 'it' was, would lead me out of the cave. But that didn't happen. No, instead it led me…led _us_, deeper in, and soon we reached a second large cavern, one nearly the same size as the vampires' secret 'clinic.' However, this cavern was not filled with sick people. No, this cavern was a resting place for those long dead.

There was a light, an eerie, otherworldly glow. It didn't seem to have a single point of origin. But rather it simply existed in some areas. From these, these bright spots, a strange light emanated outwards a short ways, growing ever fainter as it spread, until there was none of it left and only darkness remained. Yet, the strange, faint light was enough to reveal countless skeletons littering the cavern floor. Bugs crawled over the bodies, and the stench of death hung thick in the air.

I felt like hurling. But just barely managing to keep it in, I instead asked Daniel if he had any idea where we were. To my surprise, it was not he, but another voice, an unfamiliar voice, that answered.

"This is a tomb, a final resting place for us…though some among us find little rest here," the voice replied, and as I turned, I saw that one of the strange light sources had conformed to the rough outline of a human being.

"Why can't you find any rest?" I'd asked.

"There are those of us who, though dead, are unwilling to abandon the responsibilities we held in life." I didn't understand the…'ghost's' words, and that must've been obvious, because it continued, "There are those gifted, by Dokibatt and K'wa'iti, with the power to fight off the demons who prey on mankind. And this place…this place is where my people, the Quileute, lay the bodies of those fallen warriors.

"Most of my brothers' and sisters' spirits have passed on, but a few have stayed, waiting for someone who could use their power to continue the eternal battle… someone like you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you are very special, Joan. Necromancers; mediums; nexuses; witch doctors; spirit monks; medicine men – people like you have been called many things by many cultures, but perhaps the best known title is that of Shaman. You act as a bridge between the mortal and spiritual planes. And, if you will allow us, we can lend you our strength, so that you may defeat those blood suckers who have had the audacity to 'set up shop' in our CAVE and free their captives."

At this point I thought of Antonio and how powerful I was when he first… 'joined' with me. If all of these… spirits joined me, if I had that power multiplied by the dozens of light sources present, surely I would be strong enough to defeat those vampires.

However, the ghost must have known what I was thinking – perhaps it could read my mind? – because it quickly continued, "No, it doesn't work like that. That initial burst that you felt was caused by the raw and powerful emotions that pass through a spirit as it is violently torn from its body. We have been dead for many years, and that explosion of fire has long since passed. But what we now have is stable. It is dependable. And, with the number of us that still dwell here, it would be enough to give you a fighting chance against those monsters…should you take what we offer."

They're offering me the power I need to save the others. How can I refuse? But then, I've already got three voices in my head, and it was hard enough back when it was just Daniel and me. If I take what these ghosts are offering, will there be anything left of me? Or will my own mind and personality drown in a sea of others?

I'm just a poor, homeless girl. I shouldn't have to make a choice like this. And yet, the choice is mine and mine alone to make. Do I risk sacrificing myself so that I may serve a greater good? Do I take a chance on losing myself, so that I'll have the power to make those evil monsters pay for what they've done and free the rest of their…herd?

And that is how I got here – hiding in a cave, on the run from vampires and trying to make the toughest decision of my life. By the faint light cast by spirits of the dead , I am writing on the backs of my treasured sketches from Antonio. I hate to ruin them, but I have to keep writing, to try to sort out all of my thoughts, and also in case…in case my skeleton ends up here with all these others, so that someday, somebody will understand exactly what happened here.

* * *

**Author's note: **

The alias surname for Carlisle and Esme - Ruthven - was inspired by_ Lord Ruthven_, one of the earliest fictional vampires, first appearing in print in 1816. _Lord Ruthven_ _of Freeland_ is a genuine title and is a subsidiary title of the _The Earl of Carlisle_ in the United Kingdom. Carlisle!! Can you believe we got so lucky? *ahem* I mean, we did that on purpose because we are geniuses. ;)

Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing -- especially our most faithful reviewer, Haissan (how's the sake tonight?)


	6. Ancient Grudges

_All Things Pass_ is a joint venture between Metropolis Kid and Lion in the Land

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Chapter 5

Ancient Grudges

"No way could she take on both Carlisle and Esme, I don't care how many dead dog souls she had in her!" Emmett asserted.

"It's true," Edward confirmed. "She might have obtained extra powers, superhuman strength, but her physical make-up was still human, soft and vulnerable. And the spirits themselves said that she wouldn't have that same fiery burst as when she took on the new souls, so she wouldn't have the speed to completely disable Carlisle or Esme, much less both of them working together. Furthermore, Carlisle would've been particularly strong at that point, because he'd just…" Edward's voice trailed off.

"Fed on a live human," Jasper completed solemnly.

"Oh my God," Bella whimpered. Her shoulders slumped and she turned her gaze mournfully onto the trail of blood leading into the cavern. "Why would he do it? His whole life…they had all these blood packets right here…why?"

By now Edward had come and put a comforting arm around his wife. "Sometimes there's no good explanation. But if…knowing Carlisle, if he was getting no nutrients from animals, he probably wouldn't hunt anymore, wouldn't waste a life—any life—that way. But like drinking blood, the hunt is an instinct for us…we crave the physical gratification of the kill. If he hadn't had that kind of outlet for a while, well, who knows what could've set him off."

Rosalie, who'd been staring at the blood stains, cut in. "This doesn't make any sense. I know Carlisle hadn't ever fed on a live human before, but I doubt that he'd be _this_ messy of an eater. Once he latched onto that guy's throat he wouldn't be going anywhere. So why the trail of blood?"

"Is it the girl's?" Alice asked.

"Perhaps," Jasper answered. "She's the only human that would've have had the strength to get away."

"Unless…" a hopeful Bella added, "unless Carlisle changed his mind part way through! Maybe he realized what he was doing and backed off, and the guy ran here to be with his girlfriend."

"Honey," Edward said, "you've never fed on a human before. It's not that easy. Once Carlisle gave in to the bloodlust, there'd be no stopping."

"But he stopped when he changed you! And when he changed Rosalie and Esme!"

Edward shook his head. "That was different. His intention from the beginning was to change us, so the act was initiated with a completely different mindset. He'd fortified himself. If he began this feeding under the influence of bloodlust-"

"Well maybe is wasn't blood-lust," Bella persisted. "Maybe…maybe this Antonio was really sick and Carlisle saw that he wasn't going to get better. So he decided to change him, to save him, and then Joan walked in on the middle of it and-"

"STOP!" Rosalie shouted. "Just stop! We can stand around here all day and spout theories; we're not going to know anything until we find them. Do any of the rest of you pick up on a faint scent of Carlisle and Esme?"

The others stayed still and breathed in slowly through their noses.

"Yes," Alice said, then she started walking over toward the far end of the cavern. "It gets stronger over here."

The floor of the cavern sloped upwards at the point where Alice led them, and their combined torch light revealed a very small hole about half way up. However, it was only large enough to fit one person.

"Another tunnel?" Alice asked.

Jasper handed Alice his torch, and crawled up the slope, like a spider, until he reached the hole. He held his face in front of the opening and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he said, "I feel air coming through. It may be another exit. I'm going to check it out. Wait here, and I'll be right back." He disappeared into the darkness. Two minutes later, he reappeared and leapt to the cave floor.

"It is an exit. A very narrow one. And it's covered with branches and leaves, as if someone purposely wanted to hide it."

They all exchanged grave glances. They were going to have to go through this newly-discovered exit if they wanted more information on where their parents had gone.

"Guys, don't worry," Bella said. "This isn't a problem."

"Love, we are definitely in werewolf territory now. This burial ground is proof of that."

Bella shrugged. "No duh, Edward. But I'm Switzerland, remember? They'll listen to me." She clambered up the wall and through the hole.

"Bella!" Edward dashed into the hole to join his betrothed.

"Guys!" Alice shouted. Then she turned to Jasper. "We've got to go, hon. Strength in numbers." Then Alice also disappeared.

"A fight, awesome!" Emmett grunted. He'd been waiting for something like this ever since, well, ever since he'd been Emmett.

Rosalie growled and then shot a piercing glare at Jasper. "Looks like you and I are the only ones with any brains around here, and we were right – we should've killed that egocentric moron when she was still human! How many times do we have to let her idiocy lead us into danger?" Rosalie flew into the tunnel after her husband, and Jasper followed right behind.

He emerged minutes later to find his brothers, sisters and wife standing face to face with an enormous, snarling charcoal-colored wolf. As Jasper pulled himself into a defensive stance, two more wolves appeared. One was pitch black.

"Guys, we aren't here to cause trouble," Bella tried to soothe. "Carlisle and Esme have gone missing and we're just trying to find them."

Jasper sent out blasts of his calming vibe, but with more wolves arriving by the second, each with their emotions raging, his ability was being stretched to its limit, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep their rage in check. He turned his attention to Edward, who was undoubtedly reading the wolves' minds.

It always took Edward a few extra minutes to acclimate to the La Push wolves' thoughts when there was more than one from the pack present. While in animal form, they shared communal thought, each simultaneously hearing what the others were thinking, and that made it difficult for Edward to know who was thinking what. Right now he was most interested in the thoughts of the leader, Sam Uley, the black wolf.

_We don't have any evidence that these six have done anything to violate the pact_… sounded like Embry, or maybe Quil.

_I say having to listen to Princess Vampira whine on our land is reason enough to attack…_ that had to be Leah.

_They're part of the same clan; what one does, they all do…_ Paul perhaps?

_Any of them make a false move, one inch out of line, and you are to attack.._. That was Sam.

Edward heard more and more echoes of these voices as additional wolves gathered. The Cullen kids were surrounded. Some of the wolves came up close, but many stayed back in the trees, a strategy to catch any vampires that might decide to run.

A high pitched wine came from the forest to Edward's right. He glanced sideways and saw a sandy-colored wolf, Seth Clearwater. Seth had always been friendly with the Cullens. At the time Edward and Bella's daughter had been born, he'd even seceded from Sam's pack to follow Jacob's leadership in a new pack that protected the vampires from threats. But with Jacob off at college, Seth fell back under Sam's leadership and was bound to follow his orders.

Still, Seth did whatever he could to help the Cullens out. And at that moment, he was pushing aside the thoughts of the other wolves to focus on something else. Edward was shocked to hear Carlisle and Esme's voices coming from Seth's mind and realized that Seth was recalling a memory – he was telling Edward what had happened.

At first Edward didn't see anything of significance, just sky and leaves, but he heard voices, his parents' voices. This memory had a thick, gauzy feel to it, telling Edward that the direct memory belonged to one of the other wolves, and it had been shared with Seth at a later point. Edward swept aside all the other voices swirling in his brain and focused on what Seth was showing him.

"That bitch! The meddling bitch! She's ruined everything!" Esme shrieked.

"Darling, keep it down," Carlisle's soft voice commanded in a whisper so low that it could not be heard by human ears. "The wolves' sense of hearing is just as keen as ours."

Esme's voice lowered, but was still permeated with the shrillness of panic. "I don't understand why we didn't just use the other exit."

"Esme, dear, we've already put the patients through so much. They don't need to see this, too. And after what Joan told them, some of them may try to retaliate against us. We can't risk harming any more humans."

"What's going to happen now, Carlisle? The patients are going to leave. They'll make their way back to civilization and then everyone will know."

"We have time. In their condition it will take them at least twenty-four hours to reach the nearest house and, without a map or any sense of where they are, probably twice that. And then it's going to take time for them to convince someone that their story has any credibility. By then we'll have warned the children, and they'll be well on their way to setting up a new life somewhere else."

"Don't you mean _we'll_ be on our way to setting up a new life?"

There was a moment of deadly silence, and then Carlisle spoke. "I have bitten a human and broken the treaty – I owe a debt to the Quileute."

"Carlisle, no," Esme wailed.

"Esme, I won't make the decision for you; you must decide what your own conscience can bear, but for me there is no choice. I made my decision when I plunged my teeth into that innocent man and drank from him."

Esme's voice suddenly became very steady and probing. "Why did you do it? You seemed satiated…why?"

"My thirst was satiated, but my savage instincts to kill, to tear, to destroy were not. I've been hiding it from myself for too long, but no more. I am…a monster."

"Yesss," Esme uttered, her voice becoming a hiss. And in that one syllable, rather than sounding disturbed by her husband's revelation, she sounded almost elated. Carlisle looked at her quizzically. "We _are_ monsters," she continued. "As I did my research, trying to find a human reason for your condition, it only became more and more clear to me that while we still inhabit these human husks, we are decidedly _not_ human. But that's what we've been pretending to be, and Carlisle…I'm tired of it. I didn't realize how tired until I was chasing that girl down the hall the first time, right after she'd walked in on your feeding.

"I wanted to catch her, darling, not just to shut her up. I was aroused after watching you feed on that boy, and I wanted to hear her scream as I tore into her. I wanted to feel the warm blood pump out of her and gurgle down my throat. I wanted to hold her soft body to mine and feel it go limp as I drained the life from her. I wanted that, Carlisle.

"So when she came back and had all that power, and had ripped our limbs off, it wasn't self preservation that gave me the strength and the speed and the clarity I needed to overpower her. It was pure instinct and a craving for her blood. And when, even after I'd cornered her and latched onto her, she still managed to throw me off, spilling her blood all around me, my instincts were heightened with the taste of a true challenge. It was the most titillating rush of my existence Carlisle, and when I caught her that final time in the big cavern, every single drop of her blood across my tongue was exquisite. This cannot be the last time I taste that. I don't want it to be."

"My dear Esme…" Carlisle's quiet voice was barely discernible through the memory, but it was filled with infinite disappointment.

During Esme's speech, she and Carlisle came into view. The wolf that had first seen them stood back, hidden among the trees, to keep its scent out of the vampires' range. Through the leaves, Edward saw a corpse draped over each of his parents' shoulders.

"Don't take that tone with me, dear husband," Esme warned. "I have been a good little girl and gone along with your way of life for nearly a century, isn't it only fair to try it my way for the next?"

"_Your_ way. That is _your_ way of life now, is it?" Carlisle asked sadly. "Darling, I'm afraid you are already lost. As soon as we are off Quileute lands, we will give these poor souls a proper burial, then we will find our children and tell them what we have done. After that, we will say our goodbyes, and I will return here to accept my punishment. As I said before, you are free to let your own conscience dictate what you will do, but I hope you will join me. It is your only chance at redemption."

Carlisle and Esme became visible from all angles as more wolves showed up and their visions were reflected in Seth's memory. The wolves moved in closer, and Carlisle and Esme could hear and smell their approach. Carlisle merely turned toward the closest wolf and held his arms up in surrender.

"We can run, Carlisle," Esme whispered. "We'll throw the bodies at them for distraction and run. We'll keep running and call the kids on the way to warn them. Let's go to Europe, Carlisle. Amsterdam, or maybe the canals of Venice. We don't have to pretend anymore."

Carlisle ignored her. "I have broken the treaty," he announced to the wolves. "So has my wife. These corpses are the proof." He then turned to Esme. "Repent, my darling. Repent now before it's too late."

Esme's eyes blazed on her husband, and she lowered one shoulder to let half of the female's corpse slide down. Then she swung the body around and flung it at the nearest wolf. The wolf caught the body in its jaws, and another jumped at Esme.

Seth fought to end the memory there, but bits flashed through, and Edward saw Esme's head ripped from her body and he watched Carlisle close his eyes and stand perfectly still, except for his lips, which appeared to be murmuring a prayer, while three wolves tore into him.

Jasper groaned and fell to one knee as he was hit with the full impact of Edward's instantaneous despair. Alice, Emmett and Rosalie whipped their heads toward him, while Bella remained oblivious to it all. She was frustrated that the wolves were not responding to her pleas. Jacob Black would've been slobbering all over her by now.

"Hey, come on, I'm Switzerland," she said and took an unwise step toward a cinnamon-colored wolf.

"Bella, no!" Edward leapt in front of his bride and felt a burning hot fang sink into his marble-like flesh.

Emmett was finally getting that fight he'd been waiting for, and the Cullens were outnumbered two to one.

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The End

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_Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall._

Proverbs 16:18

Author's note:

I have some exciting news! I've been published. :) My original novel "Three Daves" is now available at .com, and my short story _I Don't Do Valentine's Day _is part of a collection of romantic short stories in "A Valentine's Anthology," also at Omnific. Please stop by my Web site, .com, to check them out.


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